Eternity Is A Very Long Time
by It's-A-Passion
Summary: June knows she's odd. She's prone to anxiety attacks. She reads books about serial killers. She likes tinkering around with old cars. And her drawings come true. But other than that, she's relatively normal. When June moves to Forks, normalcy goes out the window. She discovers things can never be as simple as boy meets girl, and it seems she's not the only one with secrets.EmmettOC
1. Prologue: Beginnings

**Hey, guys, so I've been contemplating this story for a while. As it follows the book, don't be surprised if you read conversations from the book in here, but I'm hoping to limit those. Anything you recognise more than likely doesn't belong to me, however, June is my character (obviously) and I hope you like her.**

**I re-wrote this (again), as of 26/8/13**

Prologue: Beginnings

Do you know what it feels like to be suffocating? To experience an onslaught of intense, all-consuming panic that just rips your nervous system to shreds and threatens to overwhelm you with fear?

To actually feel like you're going to die?

No? Then trust me, you're lucky. It's scary as hell.

It's even scarier that sometimes, I have no warning. Sometimes, it just happens.

One minute, I'm in touch with reality, watching TV, or doing homework. The next, the world disappears and all I can focus on is my heart pounding in my chest, my rapid breathing harsh in my ears, fighting the urge to faint.

Then comes the suffocating feeling.

I have an anxiety disorder and it's about as much fun as wearing a red sweater in a bull pen. I've never actually been in a bull pen wearing a red sweater, but I can imagine the sheer terror of having a massive, dangerous animal with sharp, pointed horns charge straight for you. It's about the same as an anxiety attack.

Let's just say it's not fun.

.

The plane shook slightly with a bout of turbulence and I froze.

My eyes snapped shut and I took a deep breath in slowly, before letting it out. I didn't like flying. I mean, why would I? I'm trapped inside a large metal beast flying thousands of meters above the surface of the planet, defying gravity and relying on aerodynamics to guide me safely to the ground. Who would find that enjoyable? Technology had flaws, and who's to say this plane isn't flawed and we're about to drop out of the sky?

I went around my body, tensing and relaxing the muscle groups. Mum reached her hand out and placed it on mine. When I felt relatively calm and freak-out free, I opened my eyes and turned back to the Amnesty International Urgent Action papers messily scattered on the small fold-down tray in front of me. The papers asked me to write more letters on behalf of those who've had their Human Rights violated.

"We're almost there," mum said. "Why don't you try to get a little sleep?"

"I wish I could," I replied, stretching out a cramp in my hand. "I'll just keep going with these."

She patted my hand twice, before moving her hand away and turning back to the book she was reading.

In the two seats in front of me were my dad and brother, Mason, who glared out the window at the sky like the universe and fate had conspired against him to screw him over. My brother was a lanky, surly fourteen year old who did not, under any circumstances, want to leave his school and town to start over in the middle of the school year in a different town.

Forks. I'd never been there and I'd never had any intention or inclination to go there. But that was before there were cut backs at my mum's work and she'd taken an available position in Forks, whose own hospital was understaffed.

I'd kicked a fuss about leaving in the middle of my junior year, but it didn't do any good. The decision was already made. Dad was on board, because he'd bought a small mechanic shop there and was eager to start up his own business.

I sighed and decided to follow mum's lead, filing the papers in my folder and pulling out my book.

I was up to the chapter on Carl Panzram.

I found serial killers fascinating. Which, now that I thought about it, made me sound like a psycho.

Yes, reading about what kind of people are out there in the world made me sick, made me feel ill at what one person can do to another. But did I also find it interesting? Yes. I also found it unbelievably fascinating to try to understand how the mind of a deranged person worked. Why they committed the crimes they did. What makes them tick, what sends them over the edge and why.

Plus, it was one of the only things that calmed me down and staved off a panic attack.

Yep. Weird.

But I already knew I was odd.

The plane touched down an hour later and we headed for our new house. Mum had fixed up the house last week; she'd flown to Forks to meet with the removalists, and to organise everything to where it was supposed to be. The house itself was nice; a double storey with an open plan kitchen and lounge room. Mason headed straight for his room, thundering up the stairs and slamming his door.

Mum and dad looked at each other, sighing. I followed him up, looking around for my room.

The walls were plain white, and I made a mental note to add a bit of colour as soon as I got the chance. My bed was set up, an Amnesty International poster on the wall above the headboard, and various boxes scattered around, my name scrawled across them in black letters. Empty bookcases lined one wall, just waiting to be filled, so I got to work.

I'd be starting school in the morning. As the new kid. That'll be fun.

**Hey, so...What'd'ya think?**

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. Chapter One: First Day

**Hey, so for those of you who've read the first chapter, you should know I re-wrote it. The names are different, and I changed it up a bit. You'll recognized bits in here, I think, but keep in mind that I cut a lot of bits and added different stuff in.**

Chapter One: First Day

A loud knocking pulled me from a restless sleep, and dad's voice called through the door for me to wake up and get ready for my first day of school. I groaned and rolled over, sitting up and staring at the window. The curtains, despite being closed, allowed plenty of light to filter through. Or, really, the greyish light I was beginning to associate with Forks. It was always cloudy here.

I rolled my shoulders as I headed for the hallway, more specifically, the bathroom across the hallway from me. I had to at least look semi-human for school. Barely five hours sleep and a stomach of nervousness was probably enough for me to be looking very zombie-like.

Because today was the day. The first day at a new school in a small town, where the kids had known each other since before they could walk and had been sitting with the same people at the same cafeteria table for years. Today was the first day of being the new kid.

Yep. You could probably sense my excitement.

I could barely contain it.

I tried to push back the sick feeling in my gut, stepping out into the hallway and nearly colliding with Mason as he barreled down towards the stairs and ten presumably to the kitchen.

"Oi," I snapped at him, not appreciating being shoved so early in the morning. "Watch where you're walking."

"Watch where you're stepping," he retorted, barely paying any attention to me. It was like, as soon as he woke up, he needed food and from that moment on, he was constantly hungry. And yet he remained a skinny twig of a fourteen year old, not old enough to start filling out or growing a moustache yet.

"If you're not careful, you'll be walking to school," I replied, heading for the bathroom, wiping at my tired eyes.

"Play nice children," dad said, walking down after Mason.

"I'm always nice," I muttered, closing the door and running a shower, hoping it'd wake me up. Steam from the shower fogged up the glass and I swiped at it, trying to see my reflection so I could get ready for the day.

Wide, dark green eyes blinked back at me as I started to brush my hair. I pulled on jeans and a printed tee with a picture of an old mustang and the cursive words underneath _drive me crazy_. With my hair damp, as soon as I stepped out of the warm confines of the bathroom, I was cold, so I darted across to my room and slipped on my cream hoodie before heading down to breakfast.

I tucked wisps of my curly, naturally red hair behind my ears as I entered the kitchen.

"Morning sweetheart," mum mumbled, though her eyes were stuck on the newspaper in front of her. Her shift didn't start until nine; she'd wanted to see us off to school. Like we were seven years old rather than sixteen and fourteen.

I appreciated the sentiment.

Dad poured me a glass of orange juice, passing it to me as I grabbed a bowl and my cereal. "Junebug."

I sighed. I hated that nickname. He was the only one to call me that. "_Dad_."

"What?" he asked innocently. Too innocently. I looked at him pointedly, but he ignored me.

Mum moved from the sink where she placed her bowl, kissing dad before sitting back down. My parents were so ridiculously in love with each other after years and years of marriage; anyone would be able to see they were perfect for each other. They held hands almost everywhere, smiled at each other like all they felt was happiness when they saw each other and seemed content just to be around each other, not needing to say anything or fill the silence with useless chatter. I wanted to find that kind of love, that absolute acceptance.

I reached for the milk at the same time Mason did and he grabbed it, slowly adding more milk to his own bowl of cereal. It was probably his second or third bowl of the stuff. His green eyes, exactly like my own, flicked up to me and he grinned in a way that said he knew it was pissing me off. Honestly, evolution would give birds opposable thumbs and they'd be able to pour milk into a bowl with their cereal at a faster rate than Mason. In fact, they'd fill the bowl with milk before Mason did.

"That's it, you're walking to school," I said lightly, threateningly.

Talon, our beautiful Bernese mountain dog sat down obediently at my heels and my fingers automatically sought her soft fur. A second later Diesel, our giant but gentle Irish wolfhound came over, nudging his nose into the hand that was stroking Talon, pushing her head out of the way. I tutted at him.

"Yeah, right," Mason smirked.

"Yeah," I agreed, "We'll see who's laughing when you arrive at school, drenched because you had to walk through the rain. Let me give you a clue; I'll be the one laughing."

His grin dropped and he automatically sought our mother for help, "Mum, tell her she has to take me to school."

"Mason, what have I told you about aggravating your sister?" She didn't even look up from her newspaper, too used to our squabbling to be worried. Mason grumbled around his cereal. "And June, darling, what have I told you about threatening to make him walk to school? Can't you two just get along?"

I appealed to dad, "Come on, he was asking for it!"

"Was not!" Mason muttered.

"Cut it out, both of you," dad laughed, not at all helping. He often left the disciplinary issues up to mum, much to her annoyance.

I finished my cereal and walked back upstairs to brush my teeth and finish getting ready for school, shouting over my shoulder, "We're leaving in ten minutes, Mase."

In my room, I'd shoved my IPhone into my pocket, gathering my pre-packed bag, double checking I had everything.

My mother always complained that my IPhone seemed to be permanently attached to me. I'd shrugged and shoved the ear buds back in, grinning and biting my tongue at her, turning the volume up and running past as she swiped at me with a dish towel, laughing. It was true though, my IPhone was permanently attached to me and I didn't go anywhere without it; I felt scarily exposed and incredibly vulnerable without it.

My sense of timing was pretty spot on; it was exactly ten minutes later that I was donning my leather jacket and reversing out of the driveway, Mason in the seat beside me, in my baby.

I absolutely loved my shiny red, 1963 Chevy Impala Z11 427. I kept it clean, kept it running, kept the red leather seats polished, checked the engine and tires regularly and did most of the maintenance on it myself. It was a classic, and it was all mine. The glove box was stuffed with a few CD's that I constantly swapped out with others I kept on my shelves. The windows were up and the heater was trying very hard in a tag-team effort to keep the cold and rain out and the warm in. Mason ducked down in his seat further as we neared the school, my radio blasting music loudly. He tried to turn it down, but I slapped his hand away.

"My car, my rules. The music dial stays where it is," I told him, moving my head imperceptibly in time with the song.

I needed the music to calm my nerves, and I tried to ignore the way people looked back at me as I drove into the school parking lot.

"When I get a car, I'm going to get a normal one," he said, looking out the window, his eyes on boring old Lincoln Town cars and Ford Crown Victoria's. All I had to do was follow those other cars.

"Why would you want a normal car when you could have an amazing one?" I shook my head at him, disapproving of his mainstream perspective, cutting the engine and getting out.

I had to suppress a grin when Mason groaned at the squeak the doors made. Hey, it may be a classic, but it was still old. The tips of his ears turned red as we walked, hopefully in the direction of the reception, and saw people staring.

My small smile slipped and I swallowed, eyes on my feet. I tried to ignored it; _staring was a typical response to seeing something new, it would pass eventually_. I couldn't convince myself that it was no big deal. I still felt uncomfortable under all those gazes because it meant I was up for inspection; I would be judged. I quickly grabbed my IPhone, putting my earphones in, pressing play and listening to 'Some Nights' by fun..

_Just breathe deeply,_ I told myself. Deep breathing was a relaxation technique, which I was probably going to need a lot today; I was going to under a lot more stress than usual and it made it easier to lose control of it. Made me more susceptible to an attack.

The parking lot was quickly filling with cars; none as amazing as my classic though. Most were old, second-hand looking cars, with dull colourings. Some looked like they could seriously use a good fixing up. A few cars made high pitched sounds and I winced, wanting to give them some soap to rub on the fan belt if they couldn't replace it. I was surprised to see a shiny Volvo in the parking lot. It was as conspicuous as my car. In fact, in this car park, just being a shiny car was enough to stand out.

I wrapped my soft scarf around my neck, pulling the cream hoodie up over my head to deflect attention (bright red hair kind of stands out), slinging my bag over my shoulder and wrapping my arms around my waist at the cold. I was used to how the cold and damp could creep up on you so quickly, chilling you all the way down to the bone, a lot of rain and mist.

A wind kicked up, making my eyes water slightly and my feet sloshed through puddles as we trudged along. Winter was my favourite time of year; it was so much better to be cold and trying to get warm, than to be hot and trying to get cool, which meant this kind of atmosphere only served to make me content. Small water droplets splattered on my face, and I hunched over to avoid the stinging bites of cold.

I spotted the FRONT OFFICE sign and nudged Mason, pointing at it. A girl with brown hair and an uncomfortable expression on her face exited as we entered. The office was warmer than outside, drier too, and I saw a woman behind the desk. I shook my hair out in the warm, conditioned air. The receptionist had red hair and I was thankful not to be the only one. She glanced up at us and smiled, waving us over and I pulled the earphones out.

"You must be the two other new students," she grinned, tugging on her purple shirt. I nodded. "I have your schedules right here," she rummaged around, moving bits of paper in her search for our elusive schedules.

She handed them to us, gestured a bit at a map of the school that, to me, looked like a square with a bunch of smaller rectangles scattered around inside it. Then she grinned in a friendly way, "Welcome to Forks."

Mason scowled and turned away, barging out of the office. I smiled apologetically and muttered a 'thanks'.

As soon as I stepped outside, I was hit with a forceful gale of wind, and I shivered.

More like Welcome to Windy Central.

.

Do you know what I like about being the new kid? Nothing. There was nothing good to be said about being the new kid. It just plain sucked.

But what sucked _worse_ was being the new kid in a small town full of kids who've known each other since before they could walk.

I ducked glances from all directions, my cheeks pink. And it wasn't just from the wind.

I looked down at the map I had clenched in my hands. I really should have listened when the receptionist was explaining the different routes I could take and where my classes were. But for the life of me, I couldn't read a map. No, maps weren't my thing; but my sense of direction was pretty finely tuned. Unfortunately, it got a little rusty and uncooperative when I was feeling anxious.

And really, what was more anxious-some then being the new kid?

At least, for someone like me.

I bit my lip and looked around. Eyes were watching me from every direction. They were watching me make a fool of myself. Watching me look around for my classroom, clearly lost. My face heated more and I breathed in slowly and deeply, feeling the dread rise up in my stomach.

I'd just decided to go back to the receptionist and ask her to repeat the instructions when a hand was shoved into my view, blocking the map. I jumped in surprise, startled. An embarrassing squeak left my lips before I could stop it.

"Well now," an easy, laid back voice said with a chuckle. I didn't expect to find a southern drawl all the way up here. "You're jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs."

I looked up at a wide-bearing grin and a baseball cap pulled down over messy blond hair. "Sorry, I'm just…nervous."

He stuck his hand out again, "Joshua."

"June." I shook his hand. "Would you be able to tell me where building…" I glanced down at my timetable. "Eight is?"

"I'm fixin' in that direction," he gestured before falling into step with me.

"Thanks so much," I said with a relieved sigh. "So…" I bit my lip and he grinned.

"Where y'all from?"

"Maine."

He nodded, "Hard, moving to a new school."

"Speaking from experience?" I asked and he nodded. "What are you doing above the Mason Dixon?"

"My dad - ,"

"Hey, Josh man," a couple guys waved from off to the side, who were lounging on a set of benches, shoving at each other. Two girls headed towards them; a crazy-tall girl with bleach blonde hair and toned legs encased in skin-tight jeans walked beside a slightly shorter brunette with glasses who gave one of the guys a quick kiss. "Why don't you bring your friend over here?"

I glanced down at my watch and frowned. "Shouldn't they be going to class?" I asked when they made no move to go anywhere.

He laughed at me, and I flushed. Clearly, I knew nothing about this school. "In a rush? School's not goin' anywhere."

"I…just, I didn't want to be late."

"You won't."

He led me over to his friends and introduced them. Joshua pointed to the guy perched on the edge of the wooden bench, his dyed black hair spiked up in every direction. He had two piercings; one on his eyebrow and one on his nose. "Trey."

Trey gave me a head nod in greeting. I offered up a weak smile in return. He didn't smile, his face still; he was the kind of guy I didn't generally converse with comfortably. He kind of made me uncomfortable, his eyes too intense. "June."

Josh pointed to the next guy; a blonde with a large grin that stretched across his face easily and looked to be a permanent fixture. He waved, despite being no more than three meters from me. I waved back, glancing at the ground shyly at his exuberance. He was the one who had called out before. "Sam."

"That's Chris." The blonde who the brunette girl kissed before, acknowledged me. His eyes were a light blue and they twinkled mischievously at the brunette girl. Josh gestured at the brunette, "Rebecca."

"Becca," she corrected, smiling warmly. "Welcome to Forks. Do you like it so far?"

"Yes," I said automatically, though I hadn't really been here long enough to answer truthfully. She smiled happily.

"And…" Josh said slowly.

"Dun dun dun," Sam laughed.

"…That's Rhiannon."

The bleach blonde girl flicked her eyes indifferently over to me, before turning back to her nails on her left hand. Like they were more interesting.

"Hi," I said.

She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Hi."

I bit my lip and looked at Josh questioningly. He just laughed, "Don't worry, Rhiannon doesn't like anyone, do ya' _RhiRhi_?" He mocked, jumping at her and ruffling her perfectly styled hair. She growled, yelling obscenities at him and shoving him off. But I saw the hint of a smile. "Ya' don't like the competition, right?"

"Fuck off," she snapped.

A bell rang just as two more guys arrived at their group, another blonde and a guy with shoulder-length, caramel coloured hair. Josh gestured at them, "Ryan and Alan." They stuck their hands out.

"June."

I felt overwhelmed. I was short, small, but next to these boys, I felt tiny, likely to be stepped on.

"Come on," Josh said, leading the way. "Sam's in building eight next too."

Sam fell into step beside me as we walked, the group dispersing.

"Thanks for this," I said, beginning to feel more comfortable now that I didn't have about eight pairs of eyes on me.

"No problem," Sam said easily. "You can sit with us at lunch as well, if you'd like. I know what it's like being the new kid."

"Thanks," I repeated.

I took a deep breath. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.

Maybe I'd make it through with no panic attacks.

**Okay, hey guys!**

**What did you think? Please review and let me know!**

**Also, for those who didn't read my above authors note; I've re-written the first chapter and this chapter contains mixes of the last chapter and what not.**

**Anyway, I'll be doing replies at the bottom of each chapter to those fantastic people who reviewed for me, just to let you know how much I appreciate it!**

**Hannah: **Hi! Thank you so much for reviewing! I'm so glad you were interested in reading more, and I hope you are after reading my re-written stuff as well! Yeah, I love EmmettOC stories as well. Probably just because I loved Emmett in the books. I'm glad you thought it was good so far! Thanks so much for reviewing – it means so much to me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

**Jenna: **Heya, thank you! I'm glad you were interested in reading more, and I'm glad you like the idea of adding a witch into the story! Right! I'm glad you get it! Haha, thank you! And yes, I love Emmett too! He's just too cute! Thanks so much!

**UnderARainbow: **Hey, thanks so much for reviewing this story as well! I'm glad you liked that Hunter (Now June, haha! I'm so indecisive!) is a witch! I guess, now that I've changed it, you won't actually know that she's a witch until later! Haha, thanks :D I thought I should pair her with someone; I'd be pissed too if someone was trying to steal him from me! Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing this story as well! It's really sweet of you!


	3. Chapter Two: Attention

Attention 

Sam kindly sat next to me all through our English class. He was a good deterrent; when people turned back to look at me, all it took was one good eyebrow raise from him, and they'd turn back around. I could feel myself getting more and more anxious.

I really was one to keep to myself. Large crowds put me on edge, especially when I became the center of that large crowd and everyone wanted to look at me, like just looking would tell them everything they needed to know about me. Josh's friend group was not what I was used to. There were ten of them all together, two I hadn't met yet. Generally speaking, I had one best friend and a couple people in my friend group back home. I'd never sat with more than five people at lunch, and now I would be sitting with ten.

Despite the fact that I didn't like big crowds, I was thankful they were letting me sit with them. It would be better than sitting by myself and being able to feel every set of eyes in the school looking at me.

The teacher continued to talk about Shakespeare's King Lear, and I took notes. It gave me the chance to ignore those people trying to look back at me. And I'd though sitting at the back would be smart to avoid people's wandering eyes.

I looked at the reading list. It was pretty much the same everywhere; Shakespeare, Austen, Bronte, etc. When I only saw Wuthering Heights, I was disappointed; I preferred Jane Eyre. Catherine and Heathcliff really bugged me; they had some of the worst qualities a person could have, and they were too stupid to be together when that was all they really wanted. They were shallow, self-absorbed and egotistical. They couldn't be together, but they also couldn't be apart, and in the process ruined people's lives. But I did like the prose, how messy and dark it was; the complex twisting of love and hate.

I just liked Jane better. I liked how she saved herself and the one she loved rather than being saved, I liked how she took action. I liked how awkward and un-stereotypically average looking the characters were. I loved how, while not conventionally handsome, Mr. Rochester was sexy as hell; he wasn't stuck up, or pompous or handsome – he was rude and abrupt and seemed to always be on the edge of violence. He was like Heathcliff, except that Heathcliff was no hero; he was kind of a sociopath. I loved the way they played at the power dynamic between them, and how, despite at times bordering on the too wild, too mad, too dangerous side when I feared what he could do to Jane, he desperately needs her. I loved that Jane was so independent, and how she didn't let Rochester get away with the bogus and long-winded excuses he made for himself. I loved that, despite her oppressing first ten years of her life, she rose above it, with no support, and built her own ethical character, who was furious at those who got away with injustice.

The bell rang out through the school and I nearly fell out of my seat. I didn't realize I'd been staring at the reading list for most of the lesson, thinking about the two, more famous, Bronte sisters and their respective works.

I gathered my books, shoving them into my bag haphazardly before standing up quickly and smashing my hip into the corner of the desk. "Oh, God damnit!" I hissed in pain, gripping my hip.

Sam looked at me with wide eyes, "Are you okay?"

I blushed, embarrassed, "Fine."

We were the last ones out of the room, and I'm pretty sure most of the class was dawdling outside purposefully to clap eyes on me again. I hated that. Most of them turned to look at me as I glared at the ground.

"What do you have now?" Sam asked, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"World History, building four," I told him. I'd memorized my timetable.

He squinted at me. "How _old_ are you?"

"Sixteen," I said slowly, not sure where he was going with this.

"And you're in a senior English class?"

Oh. I shrugged, "I took AP courses at my old school."

The course ranges at this school were depressingly limited. At my old school I could take two more classes, and every day I had different classes at different times. Here, I did the same thing at the same time every day. I would have liked to be able to take other classes, like biology and maybe art too, but here, it was impossible. AP courses weren't even offered, so mum had arranged for me to be put in senior courses for the ones I could.

When I'd found out, I'd sarcastically thanked her for the added pressure.

"What other subjects are you taking?" He led the way and I followed him, trying to remember the path he took me on.

"Junior chemistry, senior calculus, junior physics and junior P.E."

"You some kind of child genius?" He teased, laughing. I was surprised at how easily he fell into a comfortable companionship with me, while I still felt hesitant at speaking openly to him.

I laughed awkwardly in reply, cringing at how I sounded.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

No. I was ready for this day to be over, even though it had only just started. "Yeah."

"Is your hip hurting?" What? Oh, right, I bumped my hip. It only stung a little, barely even there. "Because, you know, I could totally carry you to your next class. I've been working out; I have the upper body strength of a…well, something strong."

"No!" I said, too quickly, worried. How much attention would that draw? Too much, way too much. More than I could handle.

"Wow, I've never been turned down that fast by a girl before."

I cringed again. Great. He'd been kidding. Of course he'd been kidding. I'd just freaked at the mental image of him carrying me, and everybody either watching, laughing, or pointing. I didn't need that kind of attention. I was just trying to hold out until the whole 'new kid' thing got old, and I could safely fly under the radar and attract as little attention as possible.

"Sorry, it's just…" And that was the question; how much should I tell him. How much do I tell him? Most people don't find a social anxiety disorder endearing. It wasn't that big of a deal, but in bigger schools, you could become a freak by association. And I really didn't want to sit by myself.

"You have issues with attention."

"What?" My head snapped around to look at him, surprised. Most people skipped the 'understanding' step and went right to the 'labeling and avoiding' step, where they labeled me a weirdo and avoided me like I had the plague. Good times.

"You don't look anyone in the eye, you watch your feet when you walk, you dodge people's glances and you get all quiet when you talk about yourself. I get it. You don't like attention."

"No, I don't," I agreed softly.

"Okay, so no attention. Simple."

I looked at him, his friendly smile, his blue eyes and gentle expression, and I smiled widely at him, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he stopped at a building with the number 4 on it. "Good luck."

"You aren't in this class?" I asked desperately, nervousness rising again. My heart beat faster and my fingers went cold. Judging from the fact that he wasn't making a move to go inside, he probably didn't have this class now, but I felt the need to ask anyway.

"Nope. Trey is, though."

I pictured the lack of expression on Trey's face, and the multiple piercings, and overall unfriendly demeanor he had going. "Fantastic."

Sam laughed. "Have fun," and he walked off, presumably to his classroom.

I sighed. It was unlikely.

Trey was already seated in the room and I hesitantly sat down beside him. He looked at me, the fringe of his spiked back hair falling in his eyes. I felt the need to say something, "Is this seat taken?"

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, which utterly confused me. They meant different things, so I had no idea what the actual answer was. I figured I'd just wait and see if anyone complained. I pulled out my notebook again, writing the subject at the top of the page, along with the date. I was ready, but after a couple minutes passed and I realized the teacher wasn't here yet, and no one else seemed to be getting out their stationary, I closed the notebook. I bit my lip.

"Amnesty International?" An unfamiliar voice asked, undercurrents of surprise running through his tone.

I gaped at Trey. It was the first thing he'd said to me, and he was leaning towards me slightly, looking at my notebook. On the front cover was an Amnesty International sticker; the candle with the barbed wire circling it. His face was still stoic, but I realized he expressed himself with his eyes. The dark brown depths were alight with interest, his brooding forehead intensifying his gaze so it was like he was entirely focused on me and nothing could make him look away. It was overwhelming.

"Yeah?" I said almost apprehensively. I was still experiencing whiplash at the latest update. If I was a big Facebook person, I'd update my status from Nervous to Stunned. But I wasn't, so I wouldn't. "I do volunteer work for them."

"Me too."

I was honestly surprised. Trey didn't strike me as that kind of person.

But that was all it took for him to warm to me minimally, and the rest of the time before the teacher arrived, we discussed the latest human rights violations taking place around the world, about the injustice and the inequality. I barely even noticed the others around me, watching our conversation; Trey had a way of speaking that was almost mesmerizing. It was another surprising thing about him. His voice was smooth and calm, and I realized that if he wanted, he could be a leader and people who follow him unquestionably. He gave me time to speak, he paid attention before replying with his own remarks.

Chemistry I also had with Trey, and I sat next to him, hoping the teacher would let me be his lab partner. Apparently, until I came along, he was the only junior in the group; the others were seniors, and would be graduating at the end of the year. Though, he did say he had doubts about whether Josh would pass or not.

As we were waiting for the teacher, a guy finally got up the courage to talk to me. All around the room, conversation died down as they attempted to subtlety listen in. Subtlety wasn't their strong suit.

"Hey," he said, holding out a hand to me, which I shook automatically. "I'm Nathan."

"June."

He grinned, and I realized he was quite the looker. With a shock of scraggly, artfully mused, chestnut hair, sea blue eyes and a toned body, I figured he probably had most of the female student population after him. When he smiled, I was sure of it. "Well, June, did it hurt?"

I frowned, looking to Trey for help. He rolled his eyes at Nathan, who didn't see because he was so focused on me. I had no idea what he was talking about, and I mentally searched my body for some sort of visible marking that signified an injury that would have hurt. When I couldn't find anything, I turned back to him, "Um, I'm sorry, but what do you mean?"

"When you fell," he clarified, though it was hardly a good explanation. I was still confused, and I looked at him helplessly. "Did it hurt?"

"I didn't fall," I said slowly, my face heating up as people began laughing, snickering. My heart picked up its pace and I swallowed thickly. Much longer, and sweat would break out across my forehead, for sure. I could already feel myself warming under the lights. I wished he'd go away, I wished everyone would just turn away from me and go back to having their own conversations. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"When you fell from Heaven," he emphasized, his smirk a little dangerous. Oh, yeah, he was definitely used to the looks he got from girls. And guys. "Cuz', baby, you're an angel."

My face heated even more, and people laughed outright now, at his blatant, and horribly clichéd pick up line. I honestly didn't know what to say or do. This had never happened before at my old school; I was a nobody, and I was so far under the radar, I was barely even a blimp. Guys just didn't flirt with me like that. Especially not where everyone could see him. But I guessed this was a new school, and they didn't know me yet.

I was saved from having to make a reply when Trey snorted derisively, "Oh, please."

"You say something?" Nathan asked. Clearly, he heard Trey just fine, and clearly, his question was an intimidation device, used in a threatening way to make others back down and become submissive. But Trey wasn't really a passive kind of guy, like me, so he turned his haughty, disdainful look over to Nathan.

"Yeah. I said that was the lamest thing I've ever heard."

"Why don't you mind your own business, _faggot_," he snapped, emphasizing the word.

Anger burned right through me.

Trey's jaw clenched and he glanced away, glaring at the door like it was the one doing the name-calling. But he didn't deny it, or name-call in reply, or start a fight, like most guys would. And judging from the way Nathan had said it, and the way a few giggled, I wondered.

But that was beside the point. Any slight, pleased feeling I had towards Nathan and the fact that he found me attractive enough to hit on, went right out the proverbial window. I didn't like him.

"Hey," I said sharply, my voice slicing right through the couple giggles and murmurings, and I was standing up before I even knew what I was doing. "That's not okay."

His eyebrows raised in surprise at my stony expression, my glare. "It was just a joke." His irritation at Trey wilted away under my gaze. I'd called him out on it, and now he had to back down or be seen as a total dickhead by his peers.

"Right," I snapped. "Ha ha. So funny," I said sarcastically. "You're a real comedian."

And then I realized I was drawing attention. Too much attention. My face warmed all over again, but not in anger this time. Why did I put myself in these positions? Why did I put myself through this? What did I think was going to happen? I'd just caused a scene, and now people were going to talk about it. Which, obviously, was exactly what I needed and wanted. Not.

I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just let it go, like everyone else, not caused a scene. It would have given me a better chance to be ignored after today. But no, I had to do something stupid. I had to give myself more of an opportunity to have a little freak out. Except Trey was my friend now, and Eden's stood up for their friends. If we didn't, what did that make us? What kind of people did that make us?

Slowly, I sat back down. I felt Trey's eyes on me. I felt everyone's eyes on me. "You owe Trey an apology."

"Come off it," Nathan said, looking back at his mates, with a half-grin of disbelief on his face. His friends looked as unsure as the rest of them. "It was just a joke."

"No, it wasn't," I insisted forcefully. Everyone was still looking at me, and I felt myself trying to hunch over into myself, to become smaller and smaller until there was nothing left or them to look at. But I'd started this. "It's a disparaging word that society has deemed not overly worth reproach despite its repressive implications and negative connotations."

He blinked at me, "You some kind of activist freak?" He laughed. I didn't. There were one or two uncertain giggles that were quickly cut short. He shook his head, "I'm not apologizing."

This day was just going from bad to worse. I was making such a scene, and I couldn't stop myself. Just fantastic. God damnit, why couldn't I stop myself? I should just let it go. There wasn't much more I could do; I couldn't force him, couldn't hold him down until he did. It was out of my hands.

But no, I had to say one more thing.

Equality was a topic I was passionate about. Human rights. Saving the world, even if I had to save it from ourselves. I didn't want to have to be ashamed of humanity. It was an issue I had an interest in, a topic important to me, and I wasn't embarrassed about that. I was embarrassed that I had to speak on that topic in front of about twenty other people, on my first day in a new school, where just my arrival was something to be gossiped about.

I was a shy person. I didn't like attention. I didn't get angry easily.

But God help someone if they stumble onto one of the things that press my buttons.

And if I didn't make a point out of it, who would? It would be just another thing wrong with the world that I just let go by and didn't try to change or fix.

"If you walk away from this, you walk away from the stance of freedom among people, the right to choose who we are and what we are, without prejudice, or fear of labels, or the approved hallmark of society. What do you stand for, Nathan?" I asked softly.

His eyes hardened and the teacher walked in, "Take a seat, everyone. I hear we have a new student in our class. June Eden. Why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"

Dread flitted through my stomach. This day sucked.

I stood up again, swallowing thickly. The teacher gestured for me to face the class, so I did. My face had to be as red as a tomato. I cleared my throat. Twice. "I'm June Eden. I'm from Maine. And…I have two dogs," I offered pathetically. I stared at the back wall. I couldn't bring myself to look at them, at all the people looking at me. But I could feel how disappointed they were in the measly bits of information I gave them.

What did they expect me to say?

_I'm an undercover PI, hired to bust up the drug ring currently operating through Forks High School, but I've also climbed Mt Everest in my spare time over the holidays, just for fun, and before I was a PI, I was a member of an illegal fight club, with only one rule; Don't talk about fight club. _

Other than being a total load of bull, it would set them talking faster than I could blink. Maybe they were hoping for something more along those lines. "Can I sit down now?" I asked the teacher, who nodded.

Before I sat down, my eyes landed on the back corner of the room. A girl sat there, her face carefully blank as she stared unseeingly at the front of the room. Her eyes flicked up to mine for a second. I looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught staring.

But really, I had good reason to stare. She was completely, bizarrely beautiful. Painfully so. Her features worked together so well, I wondered if she'd worked as a model. Her black, delicately spiked hair stood up around her small, perfectly curved face. Her skin was pale. Even more pale than mine. Her eyes were an odd shade of amber.

I stared at my desk, frowning. Her beauty was an oddity. It was conspicuous.

I'd never seen anyone look like that.

When the bell rang, she shot up out of her seat and walked out. But her movements were far more graceful than was possibly natural.

I shook my head.

Physics was next, and I was alone in that class. People stared. I still wasn't sued to it.

I sat next to a quiet girl with braided hair who smiled in a friendly way at me. When class ended, she said "Welcome to Forks," before hurrying off.

I was dreading lunch. Dreading everyone looking at me, rather than just the significantly smaller class-sized group of people. I doubted I'd even be able to eat anything.

**Hey guys!**

**I really hope you're enjoying this so far! Please, please review and let me know!**

**Also, I'm not from America, so I'm a little sketchy on how your education systems work, so if I've made a mistake, let me know!**

**And thank you so much to those who did review!**

**Review replies:**

**SupernaturalGirl51799: **Hi! Thank you so much for reviewing! It really means a lot to me that you took the time to do that! And I'm super stoked you're interested in reading more! Thanks so much :)

**Crystalskies14: **Wow! Thank you so much! I'm so pleased my summary drew you in (it took me a while to come up with it), and that my plot and characters have you interested! Yeah, it was the same with me: I searched around a little (specifically for stories about Emmett) but I couldn't really find any that played out the way I wanted, so I decided to at least give it a shot! I'm so stoked you're excited for more chapters! I hope you enjoyed this chapter then, as well, and that it still has you interested! Thanks for leaving a review like that –it makes me ridiculously happy to read things like, so I'm glad you took the time to leave it!

**PureAngelEyes: **Hi, thank you so much! I'm glad you think my story is cool so far and that you're interested in reading more of it! I'm interested in writing more of it, so I guess this is going to work out then, huh? :) Thank you so much for taking the time to review in the first place – it really means a lot to me!


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